I Just Wanna Have A Good Time
by Mordreds Girl
Summary: When Lydia was fifteen her life changed in two way: She became an overnight music sensation, and she fell head over heels in love with Peter Hale. Three years later and she's finally going to do something about the latter. Rockstar!Lydia, all human AU.


Guess who's decided to post all the rest of her Pydia stuff here?

Blame Holland's Nylon commercial. Title comes from fun.'s "At Least I'm not As Sad As I Used to Be".

And Lydia's dance song is "Crunk de Gaulle (Instrumental)" By EdiT.

XXX

Part of Lydia thinks that coming back to Beacon Hills after three years away is a horrible idea and that she should turn around _right now_ and head back to LA, she's got music to write, and parties to throw, or go to, or crash. The rest of her, however, is currently trying to smother that dissenting part of her, while also reminding her that this will be the best present ever. _If it works out, _points out her mental dissenter.

But she passes the 'Welcome to Beacon Hills' sign, and if she's that far then she might as well go all the way. So she keeps driving and ten minutes later she's downtown and pulling into a fairly crowded, for a Tuesday night, parking lot and taking a spot. She checks her make up, even though she knows it's a stalling tactic.

Getting a little fed up with herself she nearly bursts out of her car and hurries to the front doors of Hungry Moon, her heeled books making satisfying noises on the sidewalk. The club hasn't changed much since her last visit, though she hardly notices as she heads to the front of the line. Even out here she can feel the pulse of a strong bass, though it's faint it's still an inviting promise of what's to come. Her jeans are so tight that it's actually a bit of work to pull out her ID and cover money, but she manages after a few moments and hands both to the bouncer, a fairly young looking woman though there's a very no-nonsense air about her.

A stereotypical buzz of annoyance enters the line as the bouncer lets her in, though when she gives a jaunty wave to the two girls at the head of the line their annoyance turns to intrigue.

She breezes past the coat check, letting the bass lead her to the club proper. Finally she's in, the bass rattles in her bones and she smiles. Stepping out of the doorway she lets her eyes dart around, searching for her intended target, no use being here if he's not. She spots him behind the bar and lets her smile turn predatory.

Even though he can't possibly know she's here she still sashays her way onto and through the dance floor and straight for the DJ. Who's making an interesting mashup with her latest single.

"_I don't got blood I got ice_

_You're as cold as ice!_

_Get in my way and you'll_

_Break his head, his achy-breaky heart._"

There's something vaguely familiar about the surprisingly cute DJ, who has fantastic arm tattoos. She makes the most piercing whistle she can manage and is rewarded almost instantly when he jumps and looks down. "Lydia?"

She didn't expect to go through this unrecognized, but he figures out who she is faster than. . . "Stiles?" _Huh, whoda thunk?_

He gives a rapid nod then turns his attention back to his work, finishing up his mashup and fading it into a AWOLNation song.

"_Dance baby dance like the world is ending._"

Stiles crawls out of the DJ booth and promptly starts babbling: "wow, never expected you to come back here, always thought you were an 'upwards and onwards' sort of person. Not that you're not allowed to do whatever you want."

"Stiles?"

She sees his adam's apple bob. "Yeah?"

"Can we focus here?"

"Sure?"

Lydia bats her eyelashes at him. "Perfect, now here's what I want you to do. . ."

As Stiles head back into the booth she thread her way back through the crowded dance floor until she's sure she's at least somewhere in the middle.

She ignores the confused murmur of the crowd as the lights flicker and the song stops with a record screech; she takes a deep steadying breath. _You've wanted this since you were fifteen,_ she reminds herself. _No chickening out now_. The heat of a spotlight focuses her attention back on the present.

The first note of the song rings out and she rolls a shoulder, shrugging off half her long-sleeved overshirt and catching it on her elbow. The second note and she does the same with her other shoulder. Third and the shirt's half off, revealing the tight corset underneath. Fourth and the shirt's completely off. All eyes are on her now, including the most important pair, and she lets the music take her where it will.

Every last dance move she's ever learned gets thrown into this show: arches and sways, gyrations, isolations, shimmies and spins. She throws her whole heart into this dance and finds herself loving every moment of it.

The song ends though and she only allows herself a second to soak in the stunned attention. With a sinuous movement she walks back over to her discarded shirt, picking it up with a bend and snap, then before everyone realizes her little show's over and swarms her she runs to the door labeled 'employees only' and duck into an empty hall.

Her breath and heart still racing she strides down the hall to the door marked 'Peter Hale', she tries the knob and finds it locked. With a grin she squats down and gets to work on the lock, _and you said it was pointless to learn Isaac_. Soon the door pops open and she enters, closing and relocking the door behind her, _let him wonder about that_.

With a grin she gets to work setting her stage. When the desk is empty enough for her liking she climbs on top of it and puts her hands on her hips.

And not a moment too soon, it seems, for the door opens again and in walks Peter Hale, her own personal wet dream; he hasn't changed much in the past three years, except for the goatee he's now sporting, which she finds herself unsure about. She gives him the most enticing smile she can. "Hello Peter, I see you got my message."

He arches an eyebrow as he walks around to sit in his chair. "It wasn't exactly subtle."

Lydia's smile turns into a grin as she turns and sits on the desk, she meets his eyes and leans forwards a little. "I thought subtle wouldn't have been as attention grabbing, but I could try now if you'd like." Setting her hands on the chair's armrests, she leans in further to whisper in his ear. "_I want to fuck you like an animal/ I want to feel you from the inside_."

At least he laughs. "You are the very soul of discretion."

She pulls back enough to see his face, pleased to note that his pupils have dilated a little. "I try," she demures. Using her grip on his chair she pulls herself forward on the desk until her toes brush the floor and the edge bites into her ass. "So," she made her tone light and conversational." Today's my birthday."

Peter leans his chair back forcing her further forward. "Is it? Well many happy returns to you."

Even with her position so precarious she happily stretches up again to reach his ear, nibbling on it for a moment. "Would you like to know the wish I made when I blew out my eighteen candles?"

"I can make a good guess," his voice is strained. _Gotcha_.

She moves from his earlobe to his jaw. "You want to help me make my wish come true? I mean, I haven't even gotten my birthday spanking yet."

A shiver races down her spine as he _snarls_, then her delight turns to surprise and she yelps when he grabs her waist and yanks her forward, sending her into an ungraceful sprawl atop him.

Her delight quickly returns though when a hand weaves through his hair and yanks her head up from his chest. The blue of his eyes has almost been completely swallowed up, and their piercing stare sends fire through her veins. "I don't know Lydia, have been a naughty girl?"

She moans as desire curls in her belly. "Well Mr. Hale, I do believe I have. What ever will you do?"

His eyes flash and he snarls again; this time she doesn't even have a chance to yelp as he begins manhandling her body. A finger feathers against the tiny strip of skin bare between her corset and jeans causing her to giggle, which quickly turns into another moan as he pinches her ass.

Thanks to the chair her end position is pretty awkward, but she's not about to start complaining anytime soon, especially when the hand not supporting her torso begins stroking and shaping her ass.

Lydia frowns a little when he doesn't the expected assault right away. She wiggles and his hand stops. "Are you sure you want this?"

She bites back an annoyed sound. "The answer's been yes for the past three years." She wiggles again.

His hand leaves. "Whenever you want me to stop say pear." Before she can respond his hands descends and she arches at the forceful slap.

Again, and again, and again; and she's moaning and writhing and he body feel overheated and if she doesn't get an orgasm soon she's going to _explode_.

Another slap and she wails, not sure if she wants it to stop or keep going. Peter apparently decides on the former because his hand doesn't rise again, his thumb wiggling under her corset to rub circles on her spine. Her arousal is still an insistent heat in her body, but she also feels she would be perfectly content to just curl up on his lap and leave it at that.

Much more gently this time Peter maneuvers her upright and straddling his lap. She gives a lazy cant of her hips and a happy sigh. Her eyes begin to drift shut, but fly open again when he grinds against her. "Mmm, should I be doing something about that?"

Peter laughs and growls at the same time, a sounds she's happy to discover she finds quite sexy. "Tit for tat I think, my dear."

"Did you lock the door?"

He arches an eyebrow at her question. "Yes?"

She gives him a wicked grin and begins sliding down. "Fantastic."

His eyes grow hooded as she sinks between his legs and begins playing with his fly. Ever so slowly she pops the button and peels down the zipper. She takes a moment to enjoy the sight of his tented boxers before leaning in to lightly scrape her teeth against the head of his cock. He grunted and his hips jerked. Not able to wait any longer herself Lydia tugged the waistband down and began lapping and sucking to her heart's content.

Hollowing her cheeks she swallows down as much of him as she can, rising up she gently scrapes her teeth against him and is instantly rewarded with another growl and the creak of the armrests.

She goes down again, but before she can move up his hands wind tightly into her hair holding her firmly in place. A few moments after her lungs start complaining her lets her up, in retaliation she gives a firm nip to his head.

Peter snarls and, using the grip on her hair, nearly yanks her up for a kiss. She give a happy moan at the sparks of pain, eagerly letting him in. One hand remains in her hair as a constant pull, the second moves down to toy with the lacing of her corset. Her own hands are working on his shirt, her nails scraping against any bare skin she uncovers.

Her corset begins to loosen a she gives a little wiggle to loosen it further and free her breasts. The hand at her laces begins to lightly pinch it's way to her breasts, and the feeling that she needs to orgasm soon _or else_ returns with a vengeance; she rubs against him.

He breaks away from their kiss, yanks her head back, and begins to savage her neck. She cries out as his wandering hand finally reaches her nipple and tweaks it, but it quickly turns to a whine of disappointment when he stops his assault just short of her orgasm. She can guess his game and right now she's not having any of it.

Winding her own hands through his hair she gives a merciless pull. "I don't think you understand Peter." Her voice is practically a snarl. "If you don't get me off in the next few minutes you will seriously regret it."

His gaze is still hooded but it somehow manages to also be serious. "Then I get to do something to you first."

"What?" She snaps.

She squeaks when he picks her up and turns her completely around. And she squeaks again when his fingers begin to rapidly unlace her corset. For a moment she thinks he wants her naked from the waist up, but he surprises her. "Hold it up please."

Lydia does so, finding herself growing more and more curious as he begins lacing up her corset again, though it feels very different.

When he finishes he gently pushes her off his lap and nudges her to turn around. She does so and bites back a moan at the sight of him shoddily undressed and with a wicked smile playing on his lips. "Take off your pants."

She shivers and her hands more to the top button. A flick of her fingers unhitches it but she doesn't immediately move to the second one, instead left hand slips into her left pocket and pulls out a condom. Pointedly she sets it on the desk before returning to her instructed task. In the end she peels her pants off with more wiggling than necessary, though Peter doesn't seem to mind.

"No underwear Miss Martin?"

His husky voice goes straight through her. "I'm far to fashion minded to even contemplate panty lines."

"Hmmm. Lie on the desk."

Hyper-aware of his gaze on her she does so, not even bothering to be slow and teasing about it. Her ass smarts a little at the slight bite of the corset laces but she welcomes it. In this position she could crane her head to stare at Peter, but not seeing him is more exciting. The wheels of this chair squeak and she gives a little jump. His hands grab her legs and goosebumps rise in their wake as they move up and lift her thighs, resting them on his shoulders.

"Don't forget the word Lydia." His breath ghosts across and she twitches. _Pear_, she forces herself to think.

She expects his hands to settle on her waist to hold her, but is surprised again when she realizes that he's wound the excess lacing around them and is now inexorability pulling her corset tighter.

He hasn't done anything more than that and already her heart is racing; while each lungful of air she gets grows smaller and smaller. So caught up with his hands she completely forgets about the rest of him, thought she's quickly reminded when his tongue barely breaches her lips.

His hands pull tighter and tighter and his tongue makes more of those maddeningly darts. The pulling stops and she feels his wrapped palms cup her ass. It feels like there's an iron band around her lungs and she's not sure how long she can stand it, but right now it's exhilarating.

And then Peter begins his work in earnest. There's tongue and teeth and wonderfully evil slurping sounds; she wants to tell him to keep going and not stop that thing he's doing with his teeth and generally express her pleasure, except she can't get enough breath in to do so and she finds herself getting more and more frustrated with the tiny 'oh's and breathy gasps that are about all she can manage. She just wants to fucking _scream_.

His tongue spears her and she inhales sharply, almost immediately her lungs being to complain and her vision goes a little gray, but she can feel her orgasm beginning and when Peter's teeth nibble on her clit it consumes her, and she only manages to get a half formed wail out of her tortured lungs.

When her orgasm begins to fade she forces her body to relax, releasing Peter's head and shifting some of the weight off her shoulders. His hands move and she sucks in a greedy breath as her corset looses a third time. "Oh God."

Peter laughs as he tosses her corset completely aside and sets her legs to straddle his lap again.

Shakily, what with her body still trying to recover from her oxygen deprivation, her hand reaches out and snags the condom she'd set down.

His hands slide up her back and she willingly accepts their help sitting up. He's frowning a little as she flops against him. "I hope I didn't break you." His hands start rubbing soothing circles.

Lydia inhales deeply, still relishing the feeling of a true lungful of air. "No," she finally manages to get out. "But I don't think I want to do that again any time soon."

He chuckles and she watches as he leans down to nibble at her shoulder. She doesn't resist when he takes the condom from her and just focuses on getting her strength back for the next round. "You were so beautiful though." She wants to know how he's keeping his voice so conversational at a time like this. "Your breasts looking like they were about to spill out at any moment." He scraps his teeth against the makes he made on her neck; his actions and words send fresh curls of arousal through her. "The flush of your cheeks, the way your body twitched. Almost perfect."

She makes a mental note to ask later what his 'perfect' would be. His hands brush against her belly as they roll down the condom and she forces her own hands push against his shoulders. Her body shakes a little as she rises up, but she doesn't flop again. She can feel his grin against her shoulder as an arm wraps around her waist, pulling her closer. Finally he enters her and she gives a little hiss.

He's a bit too big to be truly comfortable, but she'll happily admit she loves the tight feeling. She barely even registers the bite of his zipper when he sinks in all the way. "Completely worth the wait," she hums as she arches back.

Starting in earnest she rolls her hips and squeezes. She takes his fingers digging into her waist as encouragement and does it again, getting a jerk of his own hips in response. Lydia's enjoying herself though now it seems Peter's the one getting frustrated; and before she can even blink her back slams onto the desk and Peter begins thrusting into her with hard determination. Instinctively her hands slide under his shirt to claw at his back, driving him harder and faster.

Peter's orgasm happens in surprising silence and when it's over he rolls them so that she's on top. Feeling no real desire to fill the ensuing silence Lydia just lies on him and lets the thudding of his heart lull her into a half-sleep. "Should you be getting back soon?" His voice rumbles through her pleasantly.

She blinks at him for a few moments before shaking her head. "I told everyone I'd be back in a day or two. So you've got me to yourself for a while yet," she tries to stop it but uncertainty still creeps into her voice. "If you want me."

His hands start rubbing circles on her back again as he gives a huff of laughter. "I feel I should be the one asking you that."

She answers with a quiet snort. "Well now that we've both asked it we should just ignore it and muddle through as best we can." Stretching up a little she kisses his chin. "And if we're going to be starting with complete honesty I don't think I like the goatee."

He laughs and hugs her tightly.

XXX

Other songs used in the story:  
"Cold as Ice" Foreigner  
"We Can't Stop" as covered by Bastille  
"Knights of Shame" AWOLNation  
"Closer" Nine Inch Nails


End file.
